Dark Redemption
by RashelleAndJag
Summary: Ty Mathers always felt responsibility keenly, & although he's never had much, it's enough. So what happens when everything you thought you never had is ripped from you? Ty finds himself lost in a world where bloodthirsty monsters are more human than he is
1. Prologue

Prologue:

'Becca looked up at him, her face twisted into a pleading expression.

Ty laughed. "Okay, okay, 'Becca, I'll take you down to the store with me." He raised his voice. "Mom! I'm taking 'Becca down to the corner store." He called out. "But first I think we should brush your hair."

'Becca giggled, quietly, her big brown eyes wide, her soft pale brown hair mussed. She was very slender, thin, with very straight, very fine, short hair. Her mouth was very thin and nose very small, her wide brown eyes were her selling feature. 

Ty was much of the same, with the same large brown eyes. His hair was darker, more of a deep chestnut than a dark golden oak. It was fairly long for a guy, spiked wildly. He wore a red band around his head to keep it out of his face. He was really lean, his arms just starting to show developing muscle. His baggy blue pants hung off him, and were tied with a thin black belt. His karate belt, to be precise. His loose white muscle shirt clung to him, partially defining his build. It was his look. 

He ran a brush through 'Becca's hair, and slipped on his sneakers. "You ready?"

She nodded. She didn't talk much. The teachers at school worried about her. His mother worried about her. She had been such an unhealthy baby. He could still picture her, five years ago, when he was only eleven, blue and barely clinging to life inside an incubator.

She looked unhealthily thin, and she was too quiet. She had not said a word in two years, and nothing could coax her to. The counselor said nothing was wrong, she'd talk when she wanted to . . . Therapy wouldn't help. They didn't have that kind of money, anyway. Still, her silence was nerve-wracking. He put a sweater on her, and then a coat. It was pretty warm for March but with 'Becca you couldn't be too careful.

"Okay, Ty, be careful with her." His mom looked tired. She was very thin, too, with grey in her hair and a wasted look to her face. Her carefully applied concealer could not hide the black under her eyes. 

"You know I will." Ty laughed again. He slipped his hand into 'Becca's and left. His mom had looked worse every day since his dad died. Then six months later, a month too early, 'Becca had come along and almost died. His mom worked very hard, but he knew that life was getting to her. She drank more now, and slept more. She never went on cleaning sprees anymore, and the only time she took any care of herself was when she was leaving the house. He often heard her crying in her sleep. . . 

"Enough doom and gloom." He said more to himself than 'Becca. "I'll tell you what, little 'Becca, I got paid yesterday. You can have anything you want. Whatever your heart desires."

'Becca brightened. She held out her arms to be carried. 

"Hey, Ty!" 

He turned around. It was Matt. "Hey, Matt, long time no see."

Matt laughed. He ran a hand through his short spiked blond hair. "Yeah. Since soccer season ended, all you seem to do is work. Hi 'Becca."

'Becca smiled, a sunny lopsided smile. She always liked to feel included. 

"Yeah, well, I've kept busy, how's everyone?" 

  


"Just about the same as before. Max got gold in her gymnastics meet, not surprising for the Black Kat. Me and Lore went and were amazed by the ways that girl can bend. Jem's glued to the computer, we've seen almost as much of him as we've seen of you. I think he's trying to hack into government files just for the challenge. Oh, and Lore practically put a girl in traction during a wrestling match. Can you believe the girl tried to bite her?" Matt paused for a breath. "I think I've covered everything. The gang misses you, Ty. They want to know when they are going to see you again. Right now, everyone's meeting at the mall. Want to join us?" 

"I guess I have been too busy. But I've got 'Becca right now."

Matt smiled winningly at 'Becca. "I think 'Becca could come. She deserves a treat, don't you, sweetheart?"

'Becca nodded, with a solemn seriousness that was too old for her face, and Ty sighed. "I'll call my mom from the pay phone. I left my bus pass at home. Oh well, it's a good thing 'Becca rides free."

"No cash?"

"Just a little change, and my interac card."

Ty's mom was less than pleased but agreed. 'Becca just didn't get out enough. A treat would do her good. 

"That wasn't too hard, now, was it? Let's hurry and catch the bus." Matt took off. Ty was fairly fast but Matt was faster. Matt could outrun anything. He waited for three minutes, while Ty, with 'Becca on his back caught up.

Matt was leanly on the bus stop, his arms crossed, the wind running through his hair. "What took you so long." Matt was wearing a dark forest green t-shirt with Celtic designs and rolled up sleeves and loose blue jeans. His eyes laughed, a mocking shade of green. "I should give you a head start next time."

Ty gasped for breath. "You do that and I'll be the one waiting by the pole."


	2. The End

Part One:          

When they got to the mall, they headed toward the food court. The group was easy to pick out. No one was sitting at any of the tables next to theirs. 

Max Catechu, the Black Kat, was in all black. Big surprise there. She had on tight black leather pants and a soft clingy black shirt with matching soft calf-high leather boots. Her pure white hair was fluffed around her head, emphasizing the thick black choker and black lipstick. Her eyes were a washed out violet, large in her pale round face. 

Jem Ganton, was the same ole, same ole, too. Plain black hair with a normal haircut, an ordinary white shirt and normal black pants emphasized by thick combat boots, a black trench coat, and dark prescription sunglasses. He had hazel eyes, and pale skin. He looked like he never saw the sun. Which was probably true. 

Lore Brown looked like herself. She was wearing her brother's old running shoes, baggy guy's pants, and a t-shirt that her brother had picked up at some concert somewhere. Her blond hair was cut to her chin, and she wore a red baseball cap, backwards. Ty thought the effect was somewhat endearing. She was thin, and tough as nails. He liked the way she tucked her hair behind one ear, it was cute. Not that he'd ever tell her that. 

  


"Hey, Ty." "Thanks so much for keeping in touch." "You know I didn't even notice you were missing?" "Have I met you somewhere before?"

"Ha ha." Ty said sarcastically. "I've been busy. Some of us have jobs." He pulled up a chair and sat down. "I've got 'Becca with me."

"We do have eyes, you know." Lore told him. "We are capable of seeing."

'Becca transferred from his lap to Lore's. 'Becca had always like Lore. "Oh I wasn't worried about you having eyes. . . I can see those. It's your brain cells which concern me."

"Funny." Max smiled. "Let's go. We've been waiting for Matt for twenty minutes."

"Oh, boo hoo." Matt sighed. "Where should we head first?"

"Mari Posa." Max said, just as Jem said, "Radio Shack."

Matt held out his hands. "Mari Posa. . . Radio Shack. . . Hmmm. . . Guys to girls. . . Lore doesn't count. I think you're outnumbered, Max, everyone to one."

Everyone picked up their stuff and headed slowly to Radio Shack. It took Ty a second to realize 'Becca was missing. "Wait a minute. 'Becca's gone. . ." Ty felt a note of panic take hold in his voice. 'Becca never took off, usually it was all you could do to pull her off of you. She was a clingy kid, running away was very out of character for her.

"I just saw her a minute ago." Lore looked around. "Wait a minute. Here she is." She pointed to 'Becca, standing about twelve meters away, staring into a kid's clothing store. 

Ty sighed in relief. "You go on ahead, I'll catch up. I've got some big brothering to do."

"Gotcha." Jem said. "We'll just be in radio shack. I think I've found a way to build a homing device. I just need a few parts."

"Homing Device?" Ty mouthed. Then he shrugged, Jem was Jem, after all, but really, he needed a girlfriend. Turning, Ty headed off towards 'Becca. "I think we've talked about this, little girl."

'Becca looked down at the ground, nervously twisting her foot on the floor. 

"You're not supposed to go anywhere without me? Do you want some weirdo to grab you? Or to sit up at mall security, while they page me?" Ty looked at her. Something was up. . . He looked into the store. Clothes. Yeah, 'Becca really needed new clothes. He hated to admit it but she looked a little more faded each day, and she was really supposed to be wearing summer clothes by now. The problem was she had sprouted since last summer and nothing fit. 

He sighed. He was going to get himself a new soccer ball, and some new cleats. But if he worked double shift this week end, he could still pay for his uniform and squeeze into last years cleats till he got his next paycheck. 

"What the heck. You want clothes, we'll get you clothes." He grabbed her hand and marched her into the store, marveling at the astonished look on her face. 

A sales lady attacked almost immediately. You could sure tell when they worked on commission. It was in the gleam in her eyes. "Can I help you."

"Actually, yes." Ty gave his best sheepish smile. "My little sister needs new summer clothes and well, I'm not the foremost judge on five year old active wear."

He could practically see the lady rub her hands in greedy anticipation. "Well, let's see. She's very slender. We'll have to look for smaller sizes. Anything in particular you're looking for?"

"Probably shorts, t-shirts, a summer dress, what's in style?"

  


Ty was soon overloaded with material as he and 'Becca thinned the pile. Finally, they decided on three pairs of shorts, neon green, hot pink and purple, with matching shirts, embroidered with a star, a heart, and a flower. A pair of short blue-jean overalls, with little green lizards on the pockets, a tie-dyed light green shirt, two summer dresses, periwinkle for everyday wear, and sky-blue for special occasions. He even helped her pick out new shoes, cheap slip on sandals and a pair of white and blue running shoes with lightning bolts.

"So is that everything for you?" The lady was chipper and she should be, she could smell the green. "Your total is one hundred and forty-four, twenty-six. Will that be cash, visa or debit?"

Ty cringed. It even ate into his twelve dollar savings. "Debit." He passed over his card with a sense of forthcoming doom. 

"Hey, Ty, you're still in here?" Jem raised his eyebrow, with a look of perplexity. "We've been looking for you all over the place."

"Sorry, guys, 'Becca needed new clothes." Ty sighed. "Lots and lots of expensive new clothes."

"Speaking of 'Becca, where is she?" Lore asked.      

"What do you mean? She's right here." Ty looked down to the spot by his knee where 'Becca typically occupied. "Oh my god. She's wandered off again." Ty felt the rising panic again. That was twice, in an hour. What was wrong with her? 

"Calm down, Ty, she probably just went to go see the puppies at the Pet Store next door." Max said reassuringly. "Why don't Lore and I go look, while Matt alerts the security guards?"

They moved off in different directions. "Thanks, guys." Ty called out. "Did it go through?" He asked the sales clerk. 

"Yes. You've been approved." She said, with a look of concern. "Why don't I call up the other stores and see if they have your sister." 

"That would be great. Thank you. Jem, could you stay here with her? I just want to see if I can figure out where she'd go." He passed the bag of clothes to him. "Hold these, would you?"

Ty walked out of the store. Where would she go? Not to the puppies. She'd never make it all the way across the aisle of the mall. No, too many people, 'Becca didn't like crowds. He looked over beside him. Pegasus Books. No, she couldn't read yet. On the other side was a florist. Not there, she was allergic to flowers. He stopped for a second. There was a service passage between the stores. Very narrow, and probably a reassuring hiding place for a five year old.  

The door was just a little open, as though she had just gone through it. He opened it. There was just something about this place. . . He could almost fancy that he heard her sobbing just around the corner. 

He rounded the corner and stopped dead in his tracks, his mind refusing to accept what he was seeing. It was a person/creature, hunched, and dark in shape. They were holding 'Becca, almost tenderly, her arms unresisting. They whirled in surprise, blood on their face, just the slightest image of teeth. 

Then they were gone. Like the monster under the bed. . . Whenever you gathered the courage to look, it was gone before you could bend down. They had dropped 'Becca and she clattered to the ground like a rag doll, her body limp and unmoving. Blood oozed from her throat. Slowly, irreversibly, staining the white floor red. 

  


Ty turned around and closed his eyes, attempting to block the image. He could not, it overwhelmed him and he screamed, outraged. It brought the security men running. "Oh my god," they whispered. "What happened here?" "Somebody call an ambulance."

Ty turned back around toward her, slowly as if it would erase the gruesome scene on the floor. Just clap your hands, children, and Tinkerbelle will live. . . But he was too old for fairy stories now. He couldn't make himself believe.   

Ty found 'Becca's fingers, and held them tight. Then he broke into unsatisfying half-sobs that seemed to consume him. She was hurt, she could die. . . It was his fault. She was so frail and he was so stupid. It was the only conceivable that death had finally come to claim her. 


	3. Intermission

Part Two

Ty barely remembered the ambulance ride. Red lights flashing, a wailing siren. It was all so surreal. The police had separated him from 'Becca while the doctors worked on her. It took three of them, and he screamed soundlessly, as they wheeled her away. As long as he could watch her, maybe, death couldn't steal her away. 

He answered their questions woodenly. Told them his name and address. Described the attacker he had briefly glimpsed. They told him they would contact his mother. He just asked where 'Becca was. 

They sighed, and slowly shook their heads. "She's been moved to intensive care. Why don't we wait till your mother gets here."

Ty shook his head, resolutely. "No. I want to see her now. Right now. She needs me. . ." 

The police officers looked at him in sympathy, "Okay," they whispered. "Come with us."

They led him up a confusing set of stairs, through hallways and elevators. After a while, white faded into white and it was like an eternity of blankness, reaching away from him, forever. The hospital's smell thick in his nose. Then all too soon, it was over, and his sister was lying in front of him. 

Tubes and wires swallowed her frail form. She looked washed of color, as if the tubes were sucking the substance from her, instead of feeding her life. He tried not to look at her throat. "Can I hold her hand?" He directed his question toward the only one in the room in white. 

"If you're gentle. . ." The whispers filled the room, drowning out the uncomfortable noises of the sustaining machines. He timidly laid his hand over hers. 

"Can we get you anything?" One of the police officers asked. 

"Can you fix my sister?" Ty asked blankly.

"No. . ."

"Then I don't need anything from you." With sudden inspiration, Ty pulled a chair over beside the bed. He had a new awareness - he was capable of sitting. . . "I love you, 'Becca, don't you even think of leaving me. I just bought you a whole new summer wardrobe. Who'll wear it if you don't? Tell me that . . . I love you, little Rebecca."

The police officers shifted uncomfortably. They really couldn't leave until his mom got here. "Bill, why don't you stay with the kid. We'll see if we can locate his mom."

The other police officers stepped out of the confining little room, and breathed deep in the space outside.


	4. Bedside Manner

Part Three

Ty distantly wondered where his mother was. She was supposed to be here. She was supposed to make everything all right. _Yeah, right_, a cynical part of his brain protested. _When has she made everything alright?_ But she had, he argued, when he was little. She had nursed him through the chicken pox. When his grandmother died, she had been there. _Yeah, and what has she done lately?_ The jaded part of him laughed. He felt like he was wrestling with death, and unless he could get some help, it would overpower him and steal 'Becca. 

A doctor stepped into the room. He nodded to the police officer, and regarded Ty for an instant. The boy was pale, shaky, but undisputedly calm. "Your mother still isn't here? What about your father?"

"He's dead." Ty laughed, bitterly. "Just tell me what's wrong with her."

"I really have to tell her guardians -"

"And I'm family. Right now, I'm the only family she's got. I have every right to know if my little sister is going to die. Tell me." Ty said, demanding, pointed and blunt about the tragedy. 

"Look, I really can't do that."

Ty's tone grew acidic, and abrasive. "Look at me." He looked deep into the doctor's eyes, making him look deep into his. " I saw her get," his voice dropped, low and he searched for a word. "Attacked, I rode with her to the hospital. I've been holding her hand for fourteen hours now." And every minute of it had seemed like a thousand minutes in purgatory. He was eating his sins. This was his fault. If he had been watching her more closely, nothing would have happened. "You can tell me what's wrong with her." What I did to her.

The doctor sighed. "In layman's terms, well. . . Your sister's great, considering. She was discovered quickly. We got her blood transfusions quickly. However, the trauma nonetheless affected her. She was without very much oxygen to the brain for at least twenty minutes. She is in a coma. From what we can tell she still has substantial brain activity. She's probably thinking of things right now. She might even be able to hear you. But she is trapped within herself."

"When is she going to get out?" Ty knew the answer, it was in the choked noise of her breathing.

"Anytime. Today, tomorrow, next year, never." The doctor's voice was not very optimistic, though he was trying to be. 

"What is most likely?" Ty sighed. He could tell the doctor was softening the blow. She looked so still. She should be up, moving, living her life. 

"I'm sorry, but I think that she won't wake up. She has a very weak pulse and weak respiratory signs. She is a very fragile child, and I don't know that she can revive." 

"She could sleep forever. . ." Ty felt the rage welling in him. Helpless, futile rage. It was useless, there was nothing he could rage against. "Where's my mother?"

"I don't know, the police were trying to contact her. If you could tell me her name and number, I'll get the nurses to contact her."

"Okay, Cynthia Mather. The number's 466 - 9721." 

The doctor wrote it down on his clipboard. "Okay, Ty, I'll send some nurses with blankets, maybe you can get some sleep. You look like you need it."

Ty looked at the prone figure beside him. "Sleep." He snorted. _The universe is such a cruel, ironic place._


	5. Palliative Care

Part Four

The doctor left the room shaken. In his many years as a doctor, he had seen many things, both sad and cruel. But he had never felt this way. The boy, Ty, awoke things in him. The righteous anger in his voice bore into the doctor's soul. The depth of his feeling was astounding.

And the girl, 'Becca, she was too frail, too delicate. She looked as though her very presence on earth was draining to her. As if despite anything he could do, the hand of death lay upon her cheek. And then there was the family resemblance. It was uncanny to have such similar creatures grace earth. He knew identical twins that were less disconcerting. 

He walked up to the nurses' desk. "Look, Amber, I need you to contact a Cynthia Mather at 466 - 9721. Her daughter is in serious condition, and we still haven't heard from her." 

The nurse took the piece of paper, and looked at it twice. Her eyes widened. She grabbed at her desk in a flurry of paperwork. "Doctor, Cynthia Mather is in the hospital. In palliative care. Look, its here on her chart. Look, Cynthia Mather, home phone 466 - 9721."

The doctor turned to her with an abruptness that startled the nurse. "She is? Palliative care? What's wrong with her?"

"Stacey just checked on her. . . I wouldn't even have made the connection. . . If Stacey hadn't been so upset. . . She had a massive heart attack at the age of thirty nine. . . So young, and, well, . . . There doesn't seem to be anything more we can do. It permanently damaged her vital systems. She is on life support, but it is more procedure than hope."

  The doctor swore. "I've got her daughter, in a coma. Her son is with the little girl, waiting for his mother." The doctor stopped and took a deep breath. "Well, let's not jump to conclusions, maybe it's not the same person. . ."

The nurse's eyes were wide. "Well, I can look her up in the computer, check and see if it's the same person." The nurse turned to the computer. "Oh my god. . .  I think. Yes, here it is, Cynthia Mather, nearest relative, an aunt in Kansas City. Two children, Ty Mather and Rebecca Mather. Are those the ones waiting in ICU?" 

"Yes." Good God, yes. The doctor turned back toward 'Becca's room. What was he ever going to say to uncanny boy, Ty?

Ty looked at the doctor in disbelief. Hello? Someone out there? What is this? Some sort of perverse joke? "What do you mean, my mom's dying?" This doctor had to be short some marbles, and not a few either. 

He looked over at the police officer who seemed to be wearing an identical mask of disbelief. 

"It's not official. Why don't you come with me and we'll check to see if it's your mother." The doctor could just see the headlines if it wasn't. . . Doctor has a traumatized boy examine a dying woman. - It could have been his mother, doctor claims. 

Ty stood up. "Fine, then, let's make this quick. I don't want to leave 'Becca alone for too long." Ty was certain the doctor was mistaken. 

It was no mistake. 


	6. Vengeance

Part Five

  


Ty's mind shut down. They were both dying and there was nothing he could do about it. He slammed his fist into the wall. He didn't say a word when social services came down and granted him free reign over the house until 'Rebecca's condition reached its conclusion. At which point, the question of permanent residency would arise.'

His mom was expected to live mere days until her organs failed.  The tubes in her were keeping her breathing, nothing more. She had no brain function. Unlike 'Becca, who had the faintest of hope, his mother had none at all.

The police came back. He kept telling them the truth. . . He hadn't seen a weapon on 'Becca's attacker. He/She/It had seemed to be biting 'Becca's neck. No, he would not change his statement. 

Ty looked hard at the self-satisfied social workers and the disgruntled policemen and did the only thing he could possibly do. Walked out of the room. Kissed 'Becca and his Mom good-bye, and left instructions on how to reach him with the nurses. 

He went home. 

Home had never been a comforting place. His dad would have been happier without one. He had a wanderlust that resented the burden of a house deeply. And his mother had always treated it like something to be treasured, not touched. 'Becca had been the one who made home a livable place. 

The kitchen was just as he had left it that morning. The cupboards were clean, the dirty dishes were in the dishwasher. Nothing had changed.

He made himself a hamburger out of habit, sat at his kitchen table. He didn't eat his burger. He barely noticed he had made it, or that it sat in front of him. He didn't even realize he was sitting in the dark. 

But respite doesn't last for ever. The phone was ringing off the hook, an unwelcome noise in the silence. He picked it up. It was Jem. "Hi, Ty, are you okay?"

"What kind of idiotic question is that?" Ty asked tonelessly. Then he hung up the phone. 

It rang again. And again. Ty ignored it for what seemed like an eternity. After he was certain that the ringing would never cease, that he would hear the phone in his head for the rest of his life, he let it ring twice more. Then he picked it up.

"Hello, Ty."

"Who is this?" Ty asked. This wasn't one of the gang. Who could it be? He didn't really care. 

"A friend. I think you may have seen a vampire."

Ty internally focused. His mind was cleared of all the fog, for the first time in what seemed like an eternity. There was a name for the evil he had seen. "It was biting my sister's neck if that's what you mean."

"That's what I mean. My name is Mark and I run the Lancers in this city. If you want to do something about it, come see me tomorrow afternoon. Down by the warehouses, 11th avenue and 45th street." There was a click on the line. 

Ty grabbed onto what the person, Mark, had offered him. A name for the thing that was the destroyer of 'Becca's life. Evil with a face that he could fight. A chance to do something about it. A way to pay he/she/it back. He could do this. He could make it through anything, even hell itself, if it meant he had a chance to kill 'Becca's attacker. 

  


He coolly, calmly, unplugged the phone and set his alarm for six in the morning. He changed out of his clothes, and methodically brushed his teeth. He would do it violently. The creature would plead with him, wish with all its blackened heart that it could just switch places with 'Becca.


	7. The Beginning

Part Six

****Six Months Later****  

Ty laughed out loud. His tenth hit since he left the Lancers. He had just done two leeches in broad daylight, without any kind of back up. Not bad, even for him. Sure, he lost a crossbow quarrel and those weren't cheap. But still, he broke out into a grin, not half bad.

He headed over towards the crescent, towards home, whistling. He was anxious to hide the weaponry on him. He had a bag with a standard hunting bow, silver-tipped wooden arrows, his crossbow, and his quarrels. Hidden in the lining of his jacket was a set of silver and wood daggers. His sword was tucked in its special pocket. Walking around with all the weaponry made him more than a little nervous. 

He looked at the car in the driveway. Damn. It was Ms Jensen, his social worker, sitting on his porch. He looked to see if she had spotted him. She had. He sighed and headed over, hoping his clothes would pass her scrutiny. 

"Hi, Ms Jensen, why don't you come in, while I change out of these clothes. I'm going to visit 'Becca tonight." He opened the door with his key, leaving her to follow him in.

"You are a hard person to get a hold of, Ty." Ms Jensen commented.

"Uh huh," Ty headed for the bedroom. "Be back in a moment." In his room, he quickly stripped down, throwing the possibly bloody clothes into the laundry basket. He pried open the secret compartment in the floor of his closet. 

He shoved the bag, his jacket and sword into it, hastily, and sealed it. Then he dressed, putting on suitably clean and presentable clothes. 

Ms Jensen was waiting for him in the kitchen. 'Do you mind if I do a standard inspection?"

Ty looked at her, like, did he have a choice? Yes, Lady, I do mind. In fact, I'd like you to go straight to hell. . . No, don't pass go and there is no 'get out of hell free' card. He sighed. "Of course not." 

She opened his refrigerator first. "Apples, a jug of water, ketchup, baking soda, soy sauce, and a loaf of bread."

Ty smiled, insincere. "You caught me before I had a chance to go grocery shopping."

"No, Ty, I think I caught you after you went." She opened his pantry cupboards, "Minute Rice, Peanut butter, Cereal, Campbell's soup." She raised her eyebrow, disapproving, at the nearly empty cupboards.

"I eat at work a lot." 

She paced around his house, taking note of the packed laundry hamper, the dusty ledges and dirty dishes. "I rather think, Ty, that you are very lucky the standards for  teenage males are set so low."

"Are you done, then?" Ty asked her. "You must be very busy, places to visit and such."

  


"I did wait a rather long time for you." She walked to the door and pulled on her shoes. "I do have better things to do." She went out the door. 

He locked it behind her. "$#!&%."

He rushed back to his room, and pulled out the bag and his jacket. He sighed. The blood had dried on his weapons. He grabbed a rag and first rubbed his sword. It had the most blood on it, and it needed to be sharpened again. It generally got very dull after a hit. Vampires were so dratted thick. 

He sighed and put it above the mantle where it belonged. It was a gift to his father, when his father had saved the life of some commander or other such in some war/battle. Ty had been too young for such tales back then. It was fully functional, sharp gleaming iron, fairly old, and devoid of any ornamentation. It was never intended to be a ceremonial sword. In Ty's hand's that was the last function it served.

Then he wiped down all his arrows. That was easy. The hard part was the quarrels. The heads were four edged in typical fashion, and were not meant to be easily removed. They were caked with blood, and it was very difficult not to slice himself on one of the sharpened edges. 

He had only needed two knives, so he cleaned them up easily. Then he carefully wrapped everything in its black velvet packing and stored them in the floor. The hunting bow and crossbow needed to be restrung but that was a job for a rainy day. 

He carefully replaced the floorboard and strewed clean and dirty clothes over it in typical teen male fashion. There, no one would ever guess.          

He whistled again. He went up and picked a package. He had packed it for 'Becca last night. The phone rang. It was probably one of the gang. . . They hadn't stopped calling him, every night for six months, even though he never answered. It was their way of telling him that they would be there if he needed them. They just didn't understand that in his business, friends were the last thing he needed.

He headed out the door and caught the bus to the hospital. The people on the bus avoided him. It was as though they could sense that he was different. . . They carefully found directions to look in, anywhere but facing him. 

He smiled, grimly. It had only been six months but everything about him had changed. He was stronger now, tougher not only in body but in spirit. Physical pain had no more meaning to him. It was as distant as the cold white stars at night. He didn't even walk the same way anymore. It was as though he was no longer any more human than the vampires he hunted. 

He rung the bell for his stop and got off the bus. 


	8. A Hospital Visit

Part Seven

When he got into the hospital room, 'Becca's roommate, Alice was up and about. Alice was a very pretty young girl, about ten. Her eyes were wide and green. You hardly noticed that she didn't have any hair. 

Alice was a cancer victim. She was in the hospital while she had a tumor removed. "Hi, Al', what'cha up to?" Her thin frailty was startlingly similar to 'Becca. "I brought 'Becca some new tapes." The doctors were unsure how much 'Becca could sense in her coma. So every few days, when he visited, he brought tapes - music, books-on-tape, and even tapes of him speaking. 

"Great." Alice smiled. "I'll be sure she hears them."

  


Ty trusted Alice. She was a very lonely bored girl, even though she had parents to visit her every day. Ty was certain she got as much pleasure from listening to the tapes as he was certain 'Becca did. "Good, you should know the system - the blue ones are me, the red are books, and the purple are music. Now what else do I have in this package?"

Her eyes widened in anticipation. "I don't know."

"Well, I've got these pictures to put up on the wall." He pulled out unicorn posters. He had found that it was a commonality between 'Becca and Alice. They both loved unicorns. The room was already plastered in them.

 "And I bought 'Becca a new teddy bear." He put the stuffed bear with the others on the dresser. Ty knew that tomorrow, when he was in school, all the children on the floor  would be playing with 'Becca's vast collection of toys. "You won't let him get lonely will you?"

"And you know, what else? I happened to find this in a store yesterday. It's a really pretty silver ring but its just a little too big for 'Becca. Would you like it?" Ty passed it over to her.

"Oh yes," She smiled as she examined the ring, it was sterling silver, with a little butterfly. "Thank you, Ty, it's beautiful." She slid it on her finger. 

Ty smiled and walked over to 'Becca. He kissed her forehead. "Hey, there little 'Becca, I brought you some more tapes. I have to run soon, I just thought I'd drop by to tell you I love you. We'll have our usual long visit when I come on Wednesday. Okay, luv?"

Ty sighed. One of these days she was going to answer. "I've got to run, Alice, see you later."

"You bet, Ty." She smiled.


	9. Return Of Reality

Part Eight

Ty headed out. Seeing 'Becca always made him edgy. She was so small, and still every bit his Tinkerbelle, and whenever he saw her, he wanted to clap his hands and wake her up. She was a constant reminder of why he had to grow up. 

He felt disturbed by her, more than he had any right to be. She was the one in the coma, for God's sake. Not that he believed in such a blind concept as God anymore. That was the reason  he only had prolonged visits on Wednesday night. He wanted a little more today. . . another vampire to mummify. Any other vampire. Maybe, he'd call up Mark and get the latest scoop. Hopefully, he'd have a job for him. He strode towards the nearest pay phone and put in some change. 

The phone rung twice, then fell silent. "Ravensbane. Ty." Ty said. 

"Hey, Ty." It was a girl. "I'll get Mark for you. Slay sweet, Hunter."

"Grow with the oak, girl." Ty laughed and waited. 

"Ty? How are you doing?"

"Fine." Ty laughed. "I hit two this morning and I'm looking for a little more action."

"Where'd you hit them?"

"Down over on Calder's street." 

"Oh," Mark sighed. "Those were some real nasties. We were putting together a team to hit them this weekend. Why did you ever leave us?" Mark raised his voice mockingly.

"I wanted to do some freelance. So tell me, you got me a job or what?" 

"Of course. The evil just doesn't die. I got a vamp/shifter team down on Bentley Avenue and 80th. Real renegades. I think they're responsible for the some of the recent disappearances."

"Ah. So silver and wood. . . I can take care of that for you. By the way, I need another standard crossbow quarrel. You've got the measurements."

"Yeah, we got a file on your weaponry a mile long. No problem. Standard fees?"

"Damn, you guys are killing me. . . " Ty sighed heavily on the line.

  


"Hey, you damage your own weaponry. . . You pay for it. All of it, now that you're freelance."

"That's okay. Vampires have wallets, too." Ty laughed. "Gotta go." He hung up the phone. It was nearly six o'clock. He just had time to grab his weaponry and get down to Bentley, he only hoped it didn't take too long to restring his bows. 

~          

Ty looked at the warehouse, both the vampire and shapeshifter were headed for it. . . And they were carrying a human girl. They were probably going to hole up with their meal for the night. He slipped in through a loose board and positioned himself at the very top of some crates. He carefully unloaded his duffel bag, placing everything in easy reach. 

The vampire laid the girl down on the ground. Good little leech, get her out of the way. The shifter and vamp seemed to be arguing about something. Oh well. I guess they won't hear themselves die. . . Ty laughed silently. 

Ty pulled back the string of his hunting bow, and put up an arrow. It had a silver head and a wooden shaft but at this distance, the arrow would go deep. . . he didn't need a wooden head for the vampire. So the question arose. . . Vampire or shifter. . ?

He didn't hesitate. He buried the arrow to the shaft in the shifter's chest. Then another. . . He was worried that the arrows were too deep, the fatal silver had passed almost all the way through it's body, and the remaining wood shafts were no impediment to the shifter's regenerative abilities. 

He exhaled in relief when the shifter grabbed at the arrows in shock. The poor stupid creature was trying to pull them out . . . When animal instincts killed, Ty thought ironically. Any reasoning being would push the arrows the rest of the way through. These were broad arrows, with wide, barbed heads. This shifter was just rearranging his internal organs with the sharpened silver arrow head. The shifter exhaled in a gasp of surprise, and its chest stilled. The shifter was dead. 

He threw aside the bow, and grabbed his crossbow. He jumped down onto another crate and fired four quarrels. But Ty had lost the advantage of surprise, and only the first one hit the vampire. 

The vampire faced him, it's face contorted in bestial fury. It regarded Ty for a second. Ty pulled out his sword. He could almost see the humor in it's face. The stupid human was attacking him with an _iron_ sword. It leapt for him. 

Fast, but not fast enough to dice with me, Ty thought. He curled and rolled, sweeping behind the vampire. It started to turn, but his blade was already slicing through it's throat. The vampire fell to the ground, choking on it's own blood. "Yeah, stupid human, huh? Can you heal from that before I kill you?" He kicked it in the ribs.

Ty lifted his sword, and in his trademark move, beheaded the vampire. 

The body mummified, collapsing in on itself. Ty judged this vampire to be about a hundred years old. He pulled the quarrel out of the vampire. The crumbling flesh did not resist. He packed up his bows and picked another three quarrels out of a crate. He removed the arrows from the shifter. The right way, pushing them through and out the back. Then he wrapped all the bloody projectiles in a rag cloth, and shoved them in his duffel bag.

Then he partially wiped his sword on the shifter's jacket. The shifter sure wouldn't need it any more. He sighed and dragged the bodies closer together, kicking the vamp's head on top of them. He pulled a bottle of standard engine oil and an aerosol can of hair spray out of his bag. He doused the shifter in the oil, paying careful attention to it's face. Then he hair-sprayed the vamp. He had learned early that dead vampires ignited easily. 

  


"Burn, baby, burn." Feeling powerful, Ty dropped the match. 

"Who are you . . . ?"

Ty had completely forgotten about the girl. He turned to face her, aware of what she must be seeing. A guy, with loose black pants and a black hooded sweatshirt, as well as a thick army jacket. His hood was pulled down, over his hair, and he had a band of black silk covering his eyes. He looked a little like the Mask of Zorro, he knew, but who could shoot an accurate arrow in anything more restrictive? He even wore gloves. Vampires were in the police after all. "I can't tell you that. We've got to go."

He immediately felt sorry for the girl. She looked dazed, probably a victim of vampire mind control. "Okay," She said shakily, "anywhere but here."

Good girl, he sighed. "Okay, out this way. What's your name?"

"Max." She said. "I just want to go home."

Ty turned abruptly. _Max!?! _ It couldn't be. . . It was her. . . He hadn't even recognized her. He looked straight at her, and he didn't remember her. Was there anything left untainted. . . Anything untouched in this forbidding universe? He tried to pretend there was nothing wrong. "Okay, Max, I'll make sure you get home. Did they do anything to you?" He tried to keep the rage from his voice. 

"They were vampires, right? They wanted to hurt me. . . But they didn't. You stopped them." She looked up, her washed out violet eyes pleading, as if she wanted to be reassured that she was still sane. 

"No. One was a vampire. The other was a shifter. I'm a vampire hunter. It's what I do. Look, I'm going to take you to a group of us. They'll make sure that you are okay." Ty tried to smile reassuringly but found it difficult with the other half of his face in darkness. He planned to drop her off at the Lancers and leave her there. With luck, she'd never have to find out he was a part of this. She was from a totally different world, and it was best if his world never met hers.

"You work in groups?" He had forgotten exactly how quick Max was. He had to work quickly to distract her, or else she'd see through him. 

"Some of us do. I don't, I'm freelance. We generally share information." Ty avoided her stares. There was something he didn't like in her face, a puzzled expression, as though she was trying to place him. He pulled his hood down low over his face, so that he wouldn't have to remove it. 

"Why do you cover your face?" She asked. 

"So, if a vamp escapes, it can't identify me." Ty said, as though this should be obvious. 

"But why are you covering it now? I'm no vampire." Max said. 

Ty almost cringed. She got right to the point, didn't she? He made his tone harsh. "They don't know what I look like, but from what I saw, they got a pretty close look at you. If they can find you and you can tell them what I look like, this mask is kind of useless, isn't it?"

"How old are you?" Max asked, softly, trying to judge him through the black clothes. 

Ty had to think. . . He had his birthday since 'Becca was attacked, and he hadn't even thought about it. He hadn't even remembered his own birthday. "I'm seventeen."

Max looked at him, the wide-eyed cat look that he faintly remembered. "Only seventeen?"


	10. Through the Looking Glass

Part Nine

Ty walked up to the warehouse. "This is the place." He was trying to keep from talking as much as possible. The last twenty-two blocks had been hell. He knocked on the door. "Ravensbane."

A smiling, perky blonde in a scanty red tank top opened the door. She hardly looked like the gatekeeper to a secret vampire hunter base. But that was the point, wasn't it? "Hi, how can I help you."

"I've got a fresh vamp vic here." Ty told her.

"C'mon in."  The girl gestured them in. 

Max stayed behind Ty as if worried about what she might find. Ty ignored the crates and boxes. He stepped into an empty corner and lifted up a sewage grate. He climbed down the ladder, into a clean grey concrete tunnel. Max was just behind him. There were three doors. He walked up to the middle door and knocked three times. "Ravensbane."

A guard let them in and they walked down a ramp, into the underground room that was the Lancer's base. It smelt slightly of dirt and musky earth smells. It was very dark, cloaking faces, people. 

"Hey, Hunter, how goes it?" called out a group of guys sitting over in the corner. Most were wearing masks, others weren't so paranoid. "Where'd you find the girl?" A couple of them wolf-whistled.

 Ty knew some of them, but not by name. Hunter was slang down here, for anyone whose name you were not told, or simply forgot. "Staked your ass, Hunter. Hairy and pale." Ty replied. "One of each, by myself. The girl's a vic."

They whistled in both admiration and admonition. "You keep taking them like that, and, well, you're gonna find yourself a grave man." That was a favorite euphemism for death down here. This was the biggest organization for Vampire hunters anywhere. They liked to play around here. It was a place where vampire hunters came to talk shop and goof off. Kind of like an exclusive bar but minus the alcohol. 

            But down here, you could lose a lot of your drinking buddies and fast. The death rate was obscenely high.  Therefore, if you can't hang around with them, they've 'gone serious' or, in other words, are dead. 

Ty headed toward the back. "Let's get you someone who can help you." He looked at Max. Her eyes had gone round. She was taking a good long look into his world, and she was scared at what she saw. She must feel like she's been tipped on her head.

Towards the back, he spotted Christi. She was in charge of victims. Not officially, but she was the kind of girl who always knew what to do. "Hi, Christi. I've got a reg' vic here. Shifter and vamps tried to have dinner. Name's Max."

"Oh. Still masked, huh. No face, no name." Christi asked as she regarded Max reassuringly.

 Ty felt a pang of something, like he should have been the one to comfort her. He didn't know what he was thinking. This was a job for someone who could face cold reality and still feel human. Not for him. "That's right. I gotta go. Can you see she gets taken care of?"

"No prob." Christi said, "No prob at all."

Ty turned and left, somehow feeling like a traitor. 

Max turned to Christi and asked, "Who was that masked man, anyway?" A glimmer of fear ran in her expression, as though she had lost everything that truly mattered to her. That perhaps, the sun wasn't going to rise in the east any more. And perhaps, it never had. . . 

"Good girl," Christi smiled. "Still got a sense of humor. _That_ was one of the tough ones. He lives for killing vampires. Nothing slows him down for long. He's a real hard ass, who takes measured chances and always gets his man. He's what you call 'the real deal', vampire hunter, killer, slayer, from the blood in his veins, to the depths of his heart."

"But he's only seventeen." Max protested, blankly.         

"Yeah," Christi sighed. "But vampires make you grow up real fast. Some of our best slayers have been fighting since they were just kids. The lone ranger, there, has only been up to it for six months and already he's surpassing those who've been doing it for three or four years. No one can keep up to the guy. He just never says die.  Did you know he used to come in here to train at seven in the morning and leave eight hours later. He wouldn't stop to eat. He brought a single water bottle and drank as though he resented the interruption." Christi remembered her astonishment, and her fascination. "No, that bad boy's got some heart. But we shouldn't be talking about him. . ." Christi took a deep breath, clearing those deep, haunted brown eyes from her mind. "You must feel awful."

Max sighed, "I'm not hysterical, yet. In fact, I'm blankly calm. I just need some answers, some sleep and a lot of time to rest."

Christi laughed. "You're one tough cookie. I can give you that. Most girls or guys, for that matter, when they come in here, just sob and scream. We generally have to keep them sedated while their brains adjust." 

"If I start getting hysterical, I promise you can sedate me." Max said, with a wan smile.


	11. New Mission

Part Ten

Early the next morning, Ty was sharpening his arrows and wondering idly about Max. He considered himself something of a connoisseur when it came to arrows. He had an unusual talent when it came to bows. A strangely steady hand and deadly accurate aim. After a little practice, it became obvious he was surpassing his teachers. 

Then his taste in arrows grew. Unlike some hunters, Ty had a unique understanding about most types of arrows and insisted on specializing them to the task. Now, no matter how he organized them, the hole where his seventh quarrel should have been was obvious and annoying. The fletching on some of his arrows had worked itself loose, which was slightly irritating in itself. 

He decided to head to the warehouse instead of school, today. He could have them repair some of the arrows, and pick up the ones he needed. He could even set up some of their targets and wear himself out a little. 

"Hey Hunter!" 

Ty turned towards the voice. It was Mark. "Hey Hunter." Ty replied. "How goes it?"

"Good 'n bad. You want another job?" Mark asked. 

"I'm always up for a slay." Ty grinned. "Almost as fast for a lay."

"Good. They need some help in 'Vegas. Two weeks from now someone's got a blood feast planned. They're collecting the courses as we speak. Daybreak of all people called us in. Seems they've an ex-hunter who knows where we can be found. We're changing our loc's and numbers as we speak, but this was too important a job to blow it off entirely. Anyway, they wanted a professional for the job. I told them you was the best we got."

"You paying my ticket?" Ty asked. "How many vamps are they trying to feed?"

"Yeah, I'm paying your ticket - they're feeding twenty vamps. Sixty humans." Mark looked at Ty. "Can you do this one?"

Ty nodded, not mentioning that Mark and him both knew that he'd have to go face to face with Daybreak to do it. "I can send those suckers straight to hell." He smiled, wickedly. "But I've got a bag full of weapons here that need to be repaired. . . What do you say, free of charge?"

Mark sighed. "You drive a hard bargain. No prob. You leave tomorrow night. You'll be ready? I'm sending a shuttle." 

"I'm always ready. The question is will the weapons be?" Ty smiled. He had faith in Mark, while Mark always played pragmatic, he enjoyed watching Ty take the vamps down. And he was more than willing to finance some petty weaponry to do it. "Now about the vic I brought in here the other night."

Mark raised an eyebrow. "Where did you find that girl? She's amazing. She's joined the junior slayers club. Mace says she's got real potential."

Ty sighed. That was Max alright. Potential coming out the yin-yang. "Has she asked about me?"

"Well, yeah. She won't stop asking about you. Seems to think you're the hottest thing since sliced bread. We haven't said anything, but it's a good thing not too many of us know your name. I take it that you knew her?"

"Yeah. That's why no name, no face."  Ty sniffed. Not too many of us. . . The only one of the lancers who knew his whole name was Mark. The only reason Mark did was because Mark had recruited him. And precious few even knew his first name. 

"Well, I'll send the weapons to the airport in standard packing tonight. I'll secure them in a locker. You can pick up some packing from  Ness today. Your ticket will be at the counter. Just call me before you leave tomorrow morning." 

Rashel looked around at the group. Thierry and Hannah were there, of course, and so was Ash and Poppy and James. "I managed to convince them to send us a Hunter. The best they got, or say they have. I wouldn't be surprised if he is all that and chocolate sprinkles. They credit him with thirty-one kills in six months."

"Don't you think this is more than a little dangerous?" Ash said, responding to Rashel, but looking at Thierry. "What if he decides that we look like trouble. Do we even have a name on this guy?"

"We need him. Rashel and Quinn are going to be busy. We need a professional, and someone who can afford to be seen as without a conscience. We can't. If we go around murdering vampires, we're not any better than humans or the night-world council." Thierry spoke up.

"Is calling in a vampire hunter any better than doing it ourselves?" Ash asked rhetorically.

Rashel decided to ignore that. "His name is Ty. He works with arrows and an iron blade. That's all they would tell me." Rashel added. "But Quinn looked up some of his old friends and found that twenty-two vampires had been found beheaded, then torched. Quinn couldn't get an accurate count on the shifters. Too many professionals like to use silver arrows on shifters. And Ty takes them out in multiples, twos and threes." 

"What if he's a psychopath?" James asked. "Vampires make them that way, and if they don't. . . Well, to even survive, vampire hunters usually become that way. No offense, Rashel."

"None taken." Rashel said kind of bitterly. "I've known some psychopaths myself," She thought of Vicky and her wooden stocks, mutilated victims, only some of which had been actually guilty. "But I don't think so. . . He has preferences, like any hunter. He shoots shifters with silver arrows and beheads vampires. He torches the bodies, vampires with hair spray. But he doesn't do it out of any sort of maliciousness. He seems to kill because he thinks he has to, that vampires are evil. And he torches them so they're not easily recognized, it isn't  personal."  

"You spent a lot of time on this." Poppy stated, shaking out her red curly hair.

"I wanted to be prepared. I use to run with that crowd, and I'm pretty familiar with them and their tactics. If the Lancers see a vampire, they kill it. It's the vampires-are-all-evil mentality. I don't want to risk Daybreak vampires." Rashel took a deep breath. "I'm not saying it's going to be cake and pie here. Ty is resistant to vampires, he fights them alone. That in itself usually speaks of a strong determination." 

"But. . . ?" Ash asked. There was always a but.

"If he stops the blood feast, he'll be worth the risk."


End file.
